


Always

by iwtv



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: F/F, Some Plot, and SMUT, set after 1x04, then softness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 07:53:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18890362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwtv/pseuds/iwtv
Summary: “Please stay for dinner. And afterward.”It is much less of a question and more of a demand, soft-spoken and anxious though it sounds. The ache in Anne’s chest that had been present earlier returns as she looks back at her lover and witnesses the raw need there.





	Always

_What are you going to do to him?_

_I haven’t decided yet._

She’d sat for well over another hour with Ann, comforting and calming her. Ann had been clinging to her, she knew, in more than just a physical manner. Her closely-held confession of love earlier-- coupled with this new and terrible revelation regarding the reverend--had temporarily broken her. Anne knew she needed to stay as long as Ann was in such a state.

Yet as Miss Walker’s sobs gradually faded away, her own thoughts only grew more volatile and dark in her head.

The Reverend Ainsworth. The now-vile name swirls around in her head as Anne sucks in another breath of air outside of the Walker estate. Ann’s cries also haunted her. They were currently breaking her heart all over again now that their reasoning had been revealed, pure in its horror and without any confusion. 

Anne closes her eyes momentarily as a breeze sweeps through the estate. She hears birds overhead and in the trees, carrying on as they always have done. Whiff of planted flowers. Some place within her throbs with fatigue. But she is too angry to let it bother her. Her eyes snap open again.

She had not, in fact, decided the fate of the reverend, nor could she this early on. She needs time to think, to plan. That does not, however, keep her mind from imaging the things she’d like to do to him in person.

Anne clenches down on her teeth, steadying her rage. The breeze makes the moisture collecting in her eyes grow cold. She wipes at her face and takes a deep sigh. She must not allow her emotions, however justified, to overtake her better senses. Ann still needs her.

The ground under her sharp black boots turns darker as clouds pass over the sun above. She turns away from the grounds and returns inside.

*

She finds Ann in her bedroom, not resting but at the writing desk, pen scrawling furiously across paper. Anne is halfway across the room before Miss Walker’s hand pauses and she looks up.

Brows furrowed, Anne rests her hand softly on Ann’s back.

“I know you keep a journal,” Ann says in a quiet voice. “I thought that perhaps writing down my feelings may help. Nothing specific, just—thoughts and things.”

Anne lifts an ink-smudged hand and soothes her thumb across it.

“You’ve been at it since I stepped out?”

Ann lowers her eyes and smiles wanly. Then she folds the paper and sticks it in a drawer, eyes drifting to the windows.

“It’s growing late. They’ll be clamoring about supper soon.”

“You don’t have to go,” says Anne. “I could say you’re not feeling well…”

Ann shakes her head. “No. They’ll think my…disorder has returned. I should join everyone.”

Anne nods, less surprised that she herself hadn’t thought of this and more surprised that Ann had, in her current state. But gazing at her lover now, Ann seems calmer, though surely the cogs inside her head must have been turning since Anne had gone outside. Reluctantly, Anne poses, “I should be returning to Shibden.”

A hand swiftly grabs hers before she can move. Her eyes snap up to the pair of gray-green ones searching her own.

“Please stay for dinner. And afterward.”

It is much less of a question and more of a demand, soft-spoken and anxious though it sounds. The ache in Anne’s chest that had been present earlier returns as she looks back at her lover and witnesses the raw need there.

Anne steps up close to her, thumb on the corner of Ann’s mouth.

“Of course. Whatever you need.”

*

Dinner is tedious for both of them, but Ann holds up well, she thinks, even managing to make a jest here and there. It’s a struggle not to look, not to stare at her. To her family she seems fine. But on occasion, when their gazes catch Anne understands the barely-concealed terror in Ann’s eyes. She is still afraid of the reverend, Anne knows.

After dinner and tea they excuse themselves and eventually—finally—are free to return to the bedroom, unencumbered by wondering eyes.

“Thank God,” Ann mutters. She begins undoing her hair almost immediately, tugging it out roughly so that it tumbles from the top of her head; a waving cascade of blonde that makes her look strikingly bold. It makes Anne’s heart skip a beat. She’s already seen the other woman in various stage of undress, but there’s a newness to it that is still exhilarating.

Next Ann fights with her curls, jerking the brush through her hair in an attempt to get them out quickly. Anne grabs her hand and the brush mid-stroke. Ann’s eyes flash on hers, almost angry. Anne frowns at her but her voice is like velvet.

“If I may,” she offers softly.

The younger woman relents and lets Anne brush out her hair, gently. Anne enjoys this, touching her hair and being close enough to smell its sweet scent. She gets lost in the repetitive motion and her thoughts wonder back to the bastard reverend for a moment, souring her.

But then Ann’s head is resting against the front of her shoulder, face angled up towards her own and eyes closed. Ann’s chest rises and falls on a sigh. She licks her lips, too slowly, Anne thinks. A hot shudder passes through her.

“You make me feel safe,” Ann says as her eyes flutter open.

Something quickens in Anne at the words. Anne shifts ever so slightly so that she can capture Ann’s mouth against her own. She’s a little greedy, tongue pressing against Ann’s lips for entrance. Ann lets her slip in. A small noise escapes her throat at the intimate contact. Ann lifts her head and turns. She raises an eyebrow at her, small smile playing on her lips. The first in many long hours.

“What?” Anne asks in a low voice, trying not to mirror the smile.

Ann sucks her bottom lip between her teeth just a little.

“You’re of a mood,” she muses, flash of shyness returning.

“I don’t believe anyone has ever said that to me before,” Anne replies.

A short giggle.

“That you’re of a mood?”

“No. That I make you feel safe.”

*

They’re in bed, chatting idly for a while. Anne is pressed against Ann’s back like stitching through cloth, her body curving into all of Ann, head propped up on an elbow. Ann leans into her all the while until sometime after nine she rolls on her back.

“Shall we call it a night?” Anne asks.

Ann’s eyes are soft gray in the light. They cloud over.

“I couldn’t possibly sleep yet,” she replies.

Anne gazes down at her, finger tracing along the other woman’s collarbone. She’s always enjoyed the sensuality of collarbones and Ann’s is no exception.

“Perhaps you could make me more susceptible to sleep?” Ann suggests. She sucks in her bottom lip in a poor attempt to hide a smile. Anne grins.

“I’m afraid you’ve lost all sense of coyness, my dear,” says Anne. Her hand, still on Ann’s collarbone, travels further south and into her nightgown. A tiny gasp escapes Miss Walker as a hand cups her breast perfectly. Anne kisses her. Her lover is suddenly eager, sliding her tongue into Anne’s mouth and surging up against her. A sharp ache hits Anne between her thighs that leaves her wanting.

Ann has already proven herself to be a quick learn in the bedroom and now she shows off what she’s learned, trailing kisses over Anne’s jaw and neck and sucking the skin over her pulse. The sensation makes Anne almost moan out loud. God, this girl makes her come undone faster than any woman has before.

“I want to see all of you again,” Ann breathes out, pushing down the waist to Anne’s breeches on one side.

Grinning like a fool but unable to help it, Anne complies, shuffling out of her breeches and then her shirt. Ann sheds off her nightgown just as quickly.

The sight of Ann Walker nude before her is almost enough to make her come. She’s Perfection: thick, golden hair spilling over her shoulders, glowing skin, full hips and breasts. Temporarily stupefied by her lover’s beauty, Anne simply gazes at her until Miss Walker blushes. She moves in and captures Anne’s lips with her own again.

“Are you going to look at me like that every time?” Ann half-whispers in her ear.

Anne opens her mouth to answer but all wit has scattered to the winds. Instead she quirks her eyebrow at Ann and gently pushes her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head. Ann wiggles suggestively under her captor. Anne plants herself firmly over the blonde, straddling her so that all of their bodies are aligned and touching. Ann’s eyes flutter at the contact. But then she seems to still. Her eyes are heavy from lust but there’s something more troubling there.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just…I want to memorize you,” says Ann. Her eyes are already wondering the expanse of Anne’s body, moving from her face, down her arms and chest, then back up to her face. She studies Anne as though she’s a great work of art and Anne feels a hot wave swim over her skin. She’s wet between her legs; she knows it without having to touch. But she knows enough of Ann to deduct the storm clouds in her eyes again. She lets go of Ann’s wrists.

“Ann?”

Ann sucks in a breath of air, open-mouthed, and sighs.

“I feel like I should memorize all of you, in case…”

She trails off and turns her head to the side. Pain there she doesn’t want Anne to see. Anne closes her eyes against the echo of it. She moves to lie beside the blonde but Ann’s hand flies out to stop her, grabbing onto her hip.

“No, don’t move! Please.”

“I’ve told you Ann, I’m not going anywhere,” Anne says softly. “This business with…the reverend will soon be put to rest, I promise you.”

“I know, and I believe that you’re not leaving me, that you love me the same as I love you, but Anne…”

Miss Walker’s eyes are searching hers, still worried, still afraid.

“What can you possibly do to him?” she asks at last. “As much as I love you and who you are, we are both still women in a man’s world.”

If anyone else had said this to her Anne would’ve grown angry. But Ann looks wounded. She is stating only the facts as she understood them. And she isn’t wrong. Anne smoothed her palm down the other woman’s face. Their eyes locked.

“You let me worry about Ainsworth. I’ll not have him ruining our precious time together. Not tonight. Understand?”

Ann nods. The worry lines in her face slacken. She reaches up and presses Anne’s long hair behind her ear, tugging her down into another kiss. Minutes later their bodies are pressing and rubbing hard against one another, soft flesh to soft flesh. Anne finds herself on the bottom for the first time in a long time. In a dreamy haze she watches as Ann’s hand slides down to her belly and further, tentative at first as she finds the slick hotness between Anne’s legs. She is still new to this, but Anne encourages her until her fingers are rubbing her deliciously, spreading her wetness.

When Ann finds her clit her body jerks, eyes screwed shut.

“Yes, there,” she huffs out.

Ann’s two fingers rub over her. It was wonderful but not enough.

“Circles,” says Anne, her throat dry and her pussy wet.

At first Ann isn’t certain, but then it dawns on her. Her fingers move accordingly and….dear God.

Soft curses tumble over Anne’s lips, so great is the pleasure. Ann hovers over her, planting hard and sloppy kisses on her mouth, their breaths little more than pants into the other’s mouth. Anne twists her fist into the back of the blonde’s hair, her other hand a tangled knot in the sheets as Anne stimulates her over and over again.

“Is this all right?” Ann asks at some point.

Anne nods vigorously.

“Don’t stop.”

Her eyes flutter open to see Ann completely wrecked. The shock of how much Ann is enjoying this pushes her to the brink of coming.

“Ann…”

It’s a cry for more and Ann—bless her—doesn’t mistake it.

Ann’s fingers pick up their pace, almost frantic now. Anne’s orgasm tumbles over her like a numbing, beautiful fire, licking and burning everywhere it sears through her body.

Ann slides off onto her side, looking alarmed.

“Are you all right?”

The smirk spreads over Anne’s face and she laughs breathlessly. She speckles Ann’s lips with breathless kisses.

“With you? Always,” she answers.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so this is my first fic for Gentleman Jack and this couple whom I've absolutely fallen in love with at an alarming rate. If you liked this please let me know so I can keep my fingers typing up more!


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